


Untameable

by Raylynn_Writes



Series: My gift to you [1]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Captivity, Cult Verse AU, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fake AH Crew, Gift Fic, Mentions of other Original Characters, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Self-Sacrifice, Unhealthy Relationships, bushwah, sexual extortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raylynn_Writes/pseuds/Raylynn_Writes
Summary: Is ittrulysubmission when the hatred still burns bright as a solar flare in his pretty crimson eyes?
Relationships: Geoff Ramsey/Original Character(s), Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey, Jack Pattillo/Original Character(s)
Series: My gift to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885639
Kudos: 7
Collections: Wrecursive Fanworks





	Untameable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bushwah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bushwah/gifts).



> My friend [wrote me a thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965205) for my birthday yesterday, and I got really inspired to write my ocs point of view of it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it Bushwah <3
> 
> Also, this is non-canon to either of our actual AUs! This is just something on the side for fun~

The funny thing (no, not _humorously_ funny, entertaining in a terrible soul-crushing 'this is your life' kind of way), was if it were under different circumstances, was that if it were with people he _cared for_ , then maybe he would enjoy this.

If it were someone he loved, or someone he _trusted_ and had this kind of give-and-take sexual relationship with, he would willingly bare himself before them in this manner. Though he would all too likely feel shy, feel self-conscious, he would decorate himself with the golden glitter artfully smeared over fine cheekbones; would _proudly_ wear the scarlet collar of leather around his neck, learn how to shift his limbs _just_ so to make the golden chains 'round his ankles and wrists coyly chime with his movements. Perhaps he might even wear stockings for them, rid himself of his leg hair so the delicate lace would cling to his legs in all the 'right' ways, if it weren't for the ring 'round his cock he might even wear a matching pair of panties...

Yes, for the _right_ person (or right _people_ , given his first relationship was in fact relationship _s_ with two lovely people whom he misses all the more dearly given his current situation), he would be willing to be dressed as if he were but a pet. Would give in to his desires to let others take control from him, gladly submit and be admired, be praised by whoever earned his trust in such a way...

For the right person.

The woman standing before him, end of his leash literally looped around her wrist, this _demon_ in human form... She, nor any of the 'Fakes' (how appropriate a name for these beasts; these vile 'people' that play at Gods, who defy death and view the world as a thing to be toyed with and _broken_ ) were not deserving of his trust. Of his passion, his affection- his _submission_.

He hated them.

All of them, of course.

Jack and her damned husband perhaps the most, for they demanded- no, _stole_ so much of his time, his life, his very _self_. It was _her_ that commanded the others. That controlled their strings and how they danced- that pulled _his_ strings, though she did not control _all_ of him (she could and _would not_ have all of him) and when she ordered him to dance with her he allowed himself to be guided only to the extent that would ensure his brother remained unharmed.

He had done ballet as a child and been a gymnast for years afterwards, not to mention the twins were dancers themselves. He _could_ dance, especially something more slow and intimate such as she was mocking, but Jack did not deserve the true extent of his skills. She knew that he played along only for the safety of his siblings, and while for _them_ he would play along _very_ well, he refused (thus far) to completely submit to them. To let them break him, to let them wear him down until he was mindless just like the rest of their disturbing almost cult like 'family'.

His very _name_ proclaimed this, meaning 'untameable' in his native language. 'Free as the wind', as well, but he could accept that violation of his namesake for at least two of his siblings were (theoretically) safe... If he could somehow turn the tides in his favour, he would free Shane and make him _vow_ to never look back, to never attempt a rescue for him. Sundira was a man of his word; he had been an obedient pet thus far albeit not _completely_ dedicated to his role as... Well, it wasn't as if he were getting _paid_ 'whore' wasn't quite the proper term...

Regardless, had he not proven himself, through the rough fucking; through not fighting back, through not attempting to free his brother nor escape himself, that he was trustworthy? Enough that should they release Shane, _actually_ release him and focus their attention solely on the Zimari willingly becoming a lamb to lions, they would be content and believe in his solemn vow of giving himself completely to them. Sundira was a prideful being, but for the safety of those he held dearest to him, he would tear that pride down with his own two hands and suffocate on the ashes- he could die with his sole regret being that they would be in agony over his fate, but at least they would be _safe_ they would live and had one another to lean on while they built themselves up again.

Chances were quite slim that his younger siblings would actually _respect_ his sacrifice (in that they would disregard his desperate pleas and most assuredly attempt to save him), but he had to _try_. Trapped as he was in this hell, there was very little he _could_ do. All he had, really, was the hope that somehow he could save them and give his all in his attempt at making this reality.

For now... For now he need simply bide his time, wait for the most opportune moment to 'strike' so to say, and merely _endure_ what fate awaited him as he was led by the damned leash to his next round of humiliation.

• • •

He woke with a sleepy low _moan_.

Hips rolling leisurely with the rocking of those beneath him, breathing catching in a soft sigh as hands near reverently traced over his dark tanned skin causing goosebumps to flare over his body as he shivered. For a few blissful moments, he forgot where he was. Where he was, what was happening and why his fault of so easily falling asleep when warm and not terribly uncomfortable was so fucking _dangerous_ around these bastards.

"I'm thinking golden henna." Geoff's voice. Edged with an absent-minded tone as if only partially paying attention to the conversation as his fingertips drew invisible patterns across the plains of Sundira's stomach. Casual, as if he _hadn't_ made the blond sit on his lap to be his cock warmer while he dealt with paperwork and the like involved in running such a 'prestigious' gang. "Washes off, make whatever design we want each new time it's applied. Wouldn't get ruined if we decided to make some _marks_ -" Sundira gasped and flinched away from the nails that _dragged_ so harshly across his stomach, pressing his back against Geoff's chest and whimpering when the motion pushed his cock _deeper_ ,"Of our own."

"Mm, he _does_ look so _pretty_ in gold.... And red." Jack's voice, soft in way that turned Sundira's stomach for he knew that she was _not_ as kind as that tone would imply. Said stomach quivered as long nails drifted over the harsh red lines decorating it, fear prickled along his spine as he worried she would add to them (perhaps even draw blood), though all she did was drift her hand down further to barely brush her fingers over his still hard cock, tapping her nails against the ruby encrusted ring keeping him stiff. "Such a pretty pet we've found ourselves, husband mine. Maybe we should get him some ears and a tail matching how soft his hair is, how soft his _skin_ is."

Those hands _pressed_ , firmly ( _too_ firmly) rubbing over his thighs before drifting to rub over his hips.

It was in this moment Sundira realized he had been blindfolded at some point, self-preservation shaking off the lingering remnants of sleep as he strove to be _aware_ of what was happening around him. He hated not knowing where they were around him, hated being literally spread open on Geoff's lap (legs sprawled on either side of the man's own, stuffed with his cock, head resting back against his shoulder) completely vulnerable in nothing but his detested jewels and collar. The one solace was that at least he didn't have to _look_ at either of them.

"He _is_ rather soft, isn't he? We should make him use lotion so he _stays_ that way. _Our_ pets are only of the highest and finest pedigree after all," a hand, he could only assume Geoff's by the size and threatening authority in its grip as it settled on his throat above the collar in a reminder of the fact they _owned_ him, "And anything that doesn't meet our standards... Well, it's trash! And we don't like collecting _trash_ , do we honey?"

"No we don't~" Jack's voice was closer, warmth from her body not quite touching Sundira but perhaps leaning over him so she could grasp his chin with one of her hands and direct his head to face her despite him not being able to look her in the eyes. "You're going to _keep_ being our good little pet, right SunSun?~ Wouldn't want to have to toss you out onto the streets with the _mutts_ , such pretty things like you... Well, you'd be snatched up in a heartbeat! We're doing you a favour, really, sharing our home with you, letting you live here without asking for money, and all you have to do... Is keep being obedient. You're going to make us happy, right SunSun?"

Dread had begun coiling 'round his heart at the mention of the streets ( _he knew what she meant, that they would turn him over to the lesser gangs for entertainment, or a pimp or simply cast him out to survive on his own with_ nothing _, and he feared what that would mean for not only himself but his siblings as well_ ), and before he could reply to her he had to let out a slow shaky breath to try and calm his heartrate. They wanted obedience, they would get it. If they wanted him to fight, he would fight. The only thing he wouldn't do, is _give in_ until he had first gotten from them what _he_ wanted. Only then, he would 'willingly' belong to these depraved souls.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Soft, sincere, _submissive_. He was ready to play their games, he just hoped that this was a game he actually stood a chance of _winning_.


End file.
